


It's Got Character

by sabinelagrande



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Christmas Party, Christmas Tree, F/M, Fluff, I think we can agree it does, If a pink metallic one counts, Mistletoe, Team Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:39:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2849564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil's low budget Christmas party: sure to be a SHIELD tradition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Got Character

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JeziBelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeziBelle/gifts).



"Absolutely _no_ mistletoe," Phil said firmly. 

"But-" Hunter started.

"No," he said again. "Tis not the season for sexual harassment. I want fun. Investigations into misconduct are _not_ fun. If you want to get someone to kiss you, use your sparkling personality."

"Spoilsport," Hunter grumbled.

Phil ignored him, turning to Fitz and Simmons. "Did you put up the lights?"

"Sort of," Simmons said.

"Sort of?" Phil asked.

"There was a problem with one of the outlets-" Simmons said.

"It wasn't hard to fix, but it took a minute-" Fitz added.

"And neither of us can reach the top of the cabinet," Simmons finished, looking slightly chagrined.

"Get a stepladder," Phil said. "That or Mack. He's five inches taller than any of us."

"Except Bobbi," Simmons said.

"Except Bobbi," Phil replied. "But she's making punch."

Trip handed him a flash drive. "Before you ask."

"Thanks," Phil told him, palming it. "I don't exactly have much holiday cheer in my music collection."

"We have literally been on missions that involved being shot at by actual people that we didn't prepare for as well as this party," Hunter said.

"Well, we didn't have three-hundred and sixty-four days to plan," Phil said. "Let's get to work."

\--

It was hard to make a space like this one seem cheerful, but Phil thought he'd done a pretty good job. There was greenery on the walls, plastic though it was, with little lights strung around it; no one, Koenig included, was really clear on where they got a hot pink aluminum tree, but there it was anyway, looking both cheerful and flamboyant in the corner. There was no actual fireplace, but Mack had pulled up the yule log on Netflix, which was good enough. Bobbi and Koenig, maybe not surprisingly, had produced the most polished part of the decor, making the food look a little bit less like it was the snacks from the cabinet poured into different bowls.

"This is a little bit," Melinda said, looking around at Phil's McGyvered holiday cheer, "effusive."

"It's Christmas," Phil said. "I like Christmas. It's good for us. We need to relax."

"Then why are you so nervous?" she asked.

"The person who throws the Christmas party never gets to relax," he said. "Unless they get drunk, and it's only okay to get drunk if you have a cohost."

"Uh huh," Melinda said skeptically.

"Just go with it," Phil said, as people started to filter in. "Shit, here we go." Melinda looked at him like she wanted to say something else, but she just shook her head.

Phil had this idea in his head that this was going to be awkward; in retrospect, he wasn't sure why. This wasn't exactly your standard office Christmas party. Everyone lived right down the hall and spent a substantial part of their time in this very room. It was kind of like a normal Saturday, really, only slightly more gaudy.

"I think this thing moves," Hunter said, pressing something on the base of the Christmas tree, and it started slowly spinning.

Okay. A lot more gaudy.

The punch was an early favorite, passed around liberally, which was the intent of the punch. Phil was somewhat glad he'd decided against party games, because even with punch in them, they were kind of a smartassed group on the whole.

Skye walked over, and he braced himself for a big dollop of cynicism. He didn't think it was exactly subtle that he'd done this largely for her. She deserved a little bit of normalcy, a Christmas that wasn't spent in a moving vehicle. Hopefully she'd appreciate that, even if she didn't actually admit it.

"I've never seen a spinning neon tree before," Skye said. "Is it a Coulson tradition?"

"Just trying to spread some Christmas cheer," Phil told her.

She grinned. "I like it. It has kind of a thrift store chic thing going on."

"We went to the thrift store because we had no budget," Phil said. "Kinda undoes the whole thing."

"Makes it better," Skye said. "If it's ironic, it's twee. If it's unironic, it's got character."

"Thank you," Phil said. "I think."

"Relax," she said. "You look like if I poked you, you'd fall over and clatter to the floor."

"That's very evocative," Phil told her.

"Drink some punch," Skye told him, walking away. "It'll make you cheerful."

Phil looked around the room. Koenig was at the snack table, oblivious to the fact that Trip was eying him, possibly to catch him in the act of eating or drinking something, though Trip turned around quickly when Skye sat down next to him. Bobbi was talking to Simmons, who was looking at her with undisguised admiration, while Fitz was telling a story to Hunter, helped along with suggestions from Mack. Melinda was leaning against the wall, sipping her punch and studying all of them; Phil wanted to tell her to join the party, but then he realized that he was essentially doing the same thing.

Everything looked… okay. It looked normal. It looked like this could be anybody's party, a scene from anywhere. It didn't look like there was danger waiting at every turn; it didn't look like they'd all almost died three times this week; it didn't look like they were the remnants, the scraps, the broken mess that was the only possible hope of fighting the worst possible evil. They were just some people, eating off-brand potato chips next to a hideous Christmas tree. At least for today, that was it.

He slipped out; his camera was in his office, the one with actual film, and he felt like this was the perfect time for it. It was a thing to be captured, definitely, a moment they wouldn't have often, though it seemed like, in fits and starts, things were getting a little better.

His camera was, of course, not in the file cabinet where he thought he'd left it. He sat down at his desk, rummaging around in the drawers, trying to think of what he might have done with it. There was a knock at the open door, and Phil looked up; Melinda was standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb.

"You're not at the party?" Phil asked.

"I came to find you," she told him. "You're not at the party either."

"I'm coming back," he assured her. There was something green in her hand, and Phil looked at her in confusion. "Mistletoe?"

"I lifted it off Hunter," Melinda said.

"Dammit, Lance," Phil said, rubbing his forehead. "The _one_ thing I said he couldn't do."

"He didn't hang it up," Melinda told him. "I think he threatened some people with it, but that's it."

Phil frowned. "Then why are you bringing it to me?"

Melinda rolled her eyes. "Phil, why do you think I'm standing in your office on Christmas Eve, alone, with mistletoe in my hand?"

"Oh," Phil said, thrown. "I didn't think you liked Christmas very much."

"I don't," she said, walking over and sitting on the edge of the desk, in front of his chair. "But what you did was very kind. It means a lot to everyone. It means a lot to me."

"Thank you," he said, smiling. He looked up at the mistletoe, where Melinda was dangling it above their heads. "Huh. Wonder where that mistletoe came from?"

"No idea," Melinda said, straightfaced.

"I mean, it _is_ tradition," he said.

"Wouldn't want to ignore it," she agreed, already leaning in.

Phil surprised her, pulling her into his lap. "I think maybe we can improve on tradition."

"I'm open to starting a new one," Melinda said.

"Good," Phil said. "Because I have some great ideas."

"Show me," she said, pressing their lips together.

\--

The Christmas party was agreed by all to be a success, though there was some argument over whether the metallic artificial tree was mankind's best or worst invention.

Phil found the camera three days later, in his closet.

Good thing he stopped looking. Photos were nice, but they were nothing compared to the moments themselves.


End file.
